Saturday Nights
by Platinum Bunny
Summary: Somewhat pointless one-shot...a visitor comes to the Three Broomsticks on an otherwise quiet evening. [complete]


This takes place during PoA...I guess a week or so after Sirius breaks into Gryffindor Tower, but before Lupin gets the Marauder's Map. I don't know. This fic is something I did to break out of my writer's block.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything except the old unconscious man. ^_^  


**  
Saturday Nights  
**By Platinum Bunny  


  
Usually, on Saturday nights, the Three Broomsticks was crowded and rowdy, full of witches and wizards out for a fun time. On this particular night, however, there wasn't a soul in the place - well, there was a man slumped over the table, unconscious from too much drinking, but that was all.  
  
And then there was Rosmerta, tapping her fingernails against the wooden counter. She was incredibly bored, mainly because she was used to the bar being alive and cheerful on an evening like this - warm and a feeling of summer in the air.  
  
These days, however, no one came into the bars after nightfall. That was the time when the dementors came around, prowling Hogsmeade, all in search of Sirius Black. Thoughts of Sirius brought a deep scowl to Rosmerta's pretty face, and then connecting to the fact that because of him, she was losing business, it made her quite unhappy.  
  
The unconscious old man was her only company. He had hair growing out of his nose and ears, and a very ugly, fleshy-looking pink spot on his forehead. Rosmerta wrinkled her nose.  
  
The door suddenly swung open, and Rosmerta snapped her head up. A slim, pale, recognizable figure stepped into the Three Broomsticks, a light cloak over his shabby-looking robes. Rosmerta grinned in spite of herself and leaned over the counter.  
  
"Remus!" she cried, delighted for the first time in a long while, "Remus Lupin! Oh, I haven't seen you in _ages_ - how are you?"  
  
Lupin shed his cloak, smiling somewhat weakly. He looked the same as Rosmerta remembered him, for the most part. Light hair, light eyes, smiling. But now, Lupin looked older, which didn't seem right at all. The poor man was barely even thirty-five, and he had a few wrinkles and graying hair.  
  
_Then again, _she told herself with a sigh, _I'd be gray as well, what with a life like that._  
  
"I'm well, thank you," Lupin said politely, folding his cloak over his arm. He glanced around the bar briefly before turning his head back to Rosmerta. "Rather empty, isn't it? Well, except for that man," he added, catching sight of the unconscious man, who was now drooling.  
  
"Yes, well..." Rosmerta gave a short sigh again. "Usually, Saturday nights are bustling - but what with all of this - er - _business_ - right now, a lot of people leave early because of the dementors. Hate those things," she added.  
  
Rosmerta mentally congratulated herself for avoiding the topic of Sirius Black, and went to fetch her visitor a pitcher.  
  
Lupin nodded, looking slightly strained, before smiling again. "Oh, don't get me anything," he called to her. "I'm just here because I have nothing better to do."  
  
Rosmerta bit her lip (_Will I make _no _money at _all_?)_ and turned around. Lupin had settled himself in one of the bar stools, head resting in his hand. "So, what're you doing 'round here, anyway?" she asked curiously. Rosmerta knew that after all of the horrors Lupin had went through all those years ago, he tended to avoid the Hogsmeade and Hogwarts area. Not that she could blame him.  
  
"Oh." Lupin looked somewhat startled by the question, but shrugged. "I'm the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts this year...perhaps I'll last longer than the others," he added, somewhat dryly.  
  
Rosmerta grinned. "I bet you're good with children, then. Some of the children that come in here...Slytherins, mostly, mind you. Rude as anything, I swear. But some are _very_ polite, y'know?"  
  
"Some are a handful at times," agreed Lupin, smiling weakly again.  
  
There was a short pause, and then Rosmerta realized something. "Harry Potter," she said slowly, trying not to bring up topics of unpleasantness. "He's in his third year, right?"  
  
"Yes." Lupin didn't seem bothered by the question.  
  
"Haven't seen him 'round here," Rosmerta said thoughtfully. "And I mean, they say he looks just like his father, so..."  
  
Here she trailed off. Rosmerta knew she was probably being a bit vague, but she'd hate to upset Lupin in any way. He had always been extremely kind to her. Whenever the Hogwarts children came into Hogsmeade, he and his friends would always seem to brighten the entire bar up.  
  
One particular memory made Rosmerta smile. The bar had been filled with Hogwarts students on the last Hogsmeade visit of the season, and so James Potter had decided to auction himself out to eligible female students. Needless to say, Lily Evans, his girlfriend, was not pleased. Then again, when a Hufflepuff fourth-year had offered a Galleon, Lily had protested, "Is that all he's worth?"  
  
"He's not allowed in Hogsmeade," said Lupin suddenly, breaking the silence. "His aunt and uncle didn't sign his form, and Minerva McGonagall wouldn't let him go without one."  
  
"Poor dear," said Rosmerta with a frown.  
  
Lupin didn't reply, but she thought he saw a hint of a wry smile on his face. "He would like Butterbeer, I bet," he said casually, "if he tried it."  
  
"Yes, and I'd get more money out of it," agreed Rosmerta.  
  
There was a lapse into uncomfortable silence. What Rosmerta really wanted to discuss was the issue of Sirius Black, and how exactly he'd gotten into Hogwarts. Of course, chatting about that with Lupin would be like digging her own grave, and so she dug through her mind for a conversation-started. She put her head in both her hands, thinking hard.  
  
"Does Harry play Quidditch?" she blurted out.   
  
Lupin blinked. "Er - yes. Seeker, for Gryffindor."  
  
"Ah." Rosmerta nodded, wishing she knew more about Quidditch so they could carry on an intelligent conversation. She gave a short sigh instead and looked out the window to the empty streets. "Not as crowded 'round here at evening," she commented.  
  
"People must be frightened," Lupin said, "either of the dementors or of Sirius Black."  
  
Rosmerta's head nearly came dropping out of her hands, but she recovered. "Mmm," she agreed, hoping to sound casual. "I am, I know that. Dementors...those things, I hate them. Freeze my insides."  
  
Lupin nodded slightly, then glanced outside. "Speaking of which, I'd better head back to the castle before night falls." He stood up, draping his cloak over his shoulders. He gave a short smile to Rosmerta, said, "See you later," and left.  
  
With a slightly forlorn expression, Rosmerta watched his retreating figure go up the road until he faded from her sight. Then, she turned around to face the unconscious old man.   
  
"Time to get _this_ out, then," she grumbled.


End file.
